


Make It Stop

by Twilight_Enterprises



Series: Twilight Has A (Not-So) Fun Time [1]
Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Gen, Heavy Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I have a problem, I regret everything, I'm so sorry, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, It's Twilight pain time, Suicide Attempt, This got really dark really fast, Twilight (Linked Universe) Needs a Hug, he's not having a fun time, poor Twilight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24676315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twilight_Enterprises/pseuds/Twilight_Enterprises
Summary: A look into Twilight's mental health. It's... not good. Read the tags.
Relationships: Ilia/Link (Legend of Zelda), Past Link/Midna (Legend of Zelda), Time & Twilight (Linked Universe)
Series: Twilight Has A (Not-So) Fun Time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785346
Comments: 5
Kudos: 174





	Make It Stop

**Author's Note:**

> This is quite possibly the darkest thing I've ever written. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. Also, mental health is important! Please take care of yourselves! Let people help you! Know that there is someone out there who loves you, or will love you if they haven't met you yet!

It had started with Papa, and the medicine. The medicine, which he’d since learned wasn’t actually medicine at all, but dark magic. 

_ “That mark on your hand is the sign of cruelty,”  _ Papa had said.  _ “You need the medicine to purge the cruelty from you.”  _

The medicine hurt. A lot. But he couldn’t tell Mama. Mama didn’t believe in the medicine, or the meaning of the mark on his hand. She said the mark meant he was blessed by the goddesses. 

He didn’t  _ feel  _ blessed. Especially when Papa increased the dosage of the medicine, then told him off for screaming so loudly, because  _ “Mama’s going to hear you, stupid child! You’re always so loud all the time, why are you so loud? You should be quieter.”  _

So he was. 

Then it was Mama. She’d always been nice. She’d always loved him, but not enough. When she found out about Papa’s medicine, she’d taken him to Faron Woods. 

The bad men had attacked. Mama had told him to run, that she’d find him. He’d believed her. 

Rusl had found him first, and protected him until Mama showed up. She was covered in blood, and he hadn’t been able to tell how much of it was her own, then thought bitterly that at five years old, he shouldn’t have needed to. 

_ “I love you, Little Wolf,”  _ she’d said.  _ “I love you more than anything. Remember that for me, okay? I will always love you.”  _

But she hadn’t loved him enough. If she had, she would’ve woken up again. 

But she didn’t.

After Mama, it was Midna. At first, Midna was rude, standoffish, and generally not fun to be around. 

That was okay. She probably just didn’t want to be around him. Not many people did, and those few were either missing or grieving. 

That was his fault, and he didn’t understand why no one was blaming him. He hadn’t been good enough to protect everyone. The entire village was in pain because of him.

Then Midna had almost died, and he’d been terrified. She was far from warm towards him, but she’d at least cared enough to save his life when he’d been electrocuted by one of the jellyfish in the Lakebed Temple. 

Midna was kinder after he’d saved her life. He didn’t know why. It was his fault she’d been dying in the first place. He hadn’t been good enough to protect her from Zant. Hell, he hadn’t even been able to protect  _ himself  _ from Zant. 

He hadn’t been surprised when he’d found out just how many secrets Midna had been keeping from him. She’d had no reason to tell him. It wasn’t like he deserved to know. 

He still didn’t understand why she’d been so worried when Zant and Ganondorf nearly destroyed him. It wasn’t like he was worth it. 

He wished he could say he’d been surprised when she left. Falling in love with her had been a mistake, and he knew it - just another thing to add to the already too long list of reasons he wasn’t good enough. 

The broken mirror  _ had  _ been unexpected, though. He’d known he was worthless, but he hadn’t known just  _ how  _ worthless until that point. 

Before Midna left, it had been Ilia. Her kidnapping was his fault. Her memory loss was his fault. 

He wasn’t good enough to remember. 

When she did finally get her memory back, he didn’t understand why she insisted on apologising for forgetting him. 

It wasn’t her fault. It was his. Why didn’t she get that?

Shortly after Ilia, it had been Zant. It was like Zant had known every insecurity, every trace of doubt in his mind. 

If it weren’t for Midna, Zant would have effectively trapped him in his fear and killed him. 

He was so useless he couldn’t even do the one thing the kingdom expected of him. 

In the end, Midna was the one who killed Zant, not him. 

He wasn’t good enough to do that. 

Then it was the Hero’s Shade. 

_ “Your current power would disgrace the proud hero’s green you wear.”  _

He already knew that, thanks. He didn’t need a reminder. 

The Shade had taught him seven sword skills, then moved on.

He’d eased the spirit’s regrets, allowing him to finally rest peacefully. That should have made him feel better, but it didn’t. 

Because he wasn’t good enough to linger for. 

After the Shade, it was Ganondorf. Ganondorf, who was constantly comparing him to a different boy in green, one whose legacy he’d never live up to. 

He wasn’t good enough to stand out on his own.

Like Zant, it was almost as if Ganondorf knew exactly what his insecurities were, and targeted them accordingly. 

_ “You are nothing. You will never amount to anything, you’re a failure.”  _

Ganondorf had seemed genuinely surprised when he’d responded,  _ “I know.”  _

It didn’t stop the towering, terrifying man from doing his moral best to kill him. 

It was no more than he deserved.

He hadn’t even defeated Ganondorf with his own power. He’d used the Shade’s, and Farore’s, and the Sword’s. Not his own. He didn’t have any to use, anyway. 

The people of Castle Town were just as bad. As a Hylian, he was a nobody from a backwater village in the woods. As a wolf, he was a monster to be feared and slain. 

He found he had to agree. He was a ranch hand, one who knew first hand the effects of wolves on livestock. He  _ was  _ a wolf. He was a threat to his entire village, because what if, one day,  _ he lost control.  _

So he went to Kakariko. He stood behind the Spirit’s Spring, looking down at the deep pool of water. He strapped on his iron boots. 

And he leapt. 

The splash was bigger than he’d meant it to be. He wasn’t even good at  _ drowning  _ himself. 

Ilia had pulled him out. She’d made him promise never to do it again. 

She couldn’t make him promise not to cut the lines on his arm, but he knew she disapproved. 

He supposed he wasn’t even good enough to give himself the punishment he knew he deserved. 

She’d confessed her love for him. He didn’t understand why. He was broken, she  _ knew  _ that. She could see it in his eyes. He was terrified of loving her back, because that’s how he’d felt about Midna, and look how  _ that  _ turned out. If he dared to open up to her, she’d see just how messed up he was, and how it wasn’t worth her time to try and fix him. 

She tried anyway. 

She did a pretty good job. 

He tucked that one knife away, only to be used if he  _ really  _ deserved it. 

He found purpose again.  _ Make her happy. Make myself worthy of her.  _

He did okay. 

The other incarnations of himself were… unexpected. 

What’s worse was that they were all better than him.

Sky had forged the Master Sword with his own two hands, and founded the kingdom of Hyrule.

Four had forged the Four Sword, and saved Hyrule three times. 

Legend had saved Hyrule - and other countries, too - more times than he could count on one hand. 

Hyrule protected the entire Triforce.

Wind protected what was left of Hyrule in his timeline, and then found a new land and founded Hyrule all over again.

Warriors had fought an entire war almost single-handedly. 

Wild had saved Hyrule even without remembering  _ why he should. _

Time had saved Hyrule when he was  _ nine.  _ And he’d supposedly fought the  _ moon.  _ And yet, he was still somehow okay. He’d settled down and married the most supportive person in that era. He was  _ happy.  _

But Twilight knew that Time would never be truly happy, because he would someday be consumed by his regrets. And there was nothing Twilight could do to stop it. 

The Hero’s Shade was his fault. He knew that now. Time’s regrets were primarily tied to him. If he’d just been  _ good enough _ , Time wouldn’t have had to hold on for him. Time could’ve passed on and been with his wife in the afterlife. 

But he was a worthless, useless mutt who couldn’t do anything for himself, and Time had to hold on to a world he had no obligation to stay in. 

The least he could do was to act as a comfort animal for the others, but only Time, Wild, Legend, and Four knew it was him. He was too cowardly to tell everyone else. 

He didn’t even realise he’d pulled out  _ that  _ knife until he felt its familiar, needle-like blade pressed against his inner arm. He felt oddly distant as he trailed it across his skin, watching numbly as the deep red rivulets of blood bubbled to the surface and painted a dark tapestry on his right arm. 

His eyes followed a particularly slow-moving drop, and he contemplated how easy it would be to just  _ make it all stop.  _

He didn't register his arm moving until he felt a hot liquid trickling down his throat.  _ It’s too easy.  _

In the back of his mind, he noted the panicked shouts of his companions as they saw what he was doing. He hadn’t bothered to hide. He wasn’t good enough for them, but they deserved to know what happened to him, at least. 

Before he could drag the knife further, an iron-like vice clamped itself around his wrist. The knife clattered to the ground harmlessly as his hand released it of its own accord. He blithely recognised the vice as a hand, in a familiar golden gauntlet. 

Another hand cupped his cheek, and his eyes suddenly focused on Time’s distraught face. 

“Oh, Pup,” Time whispered, then pulled him into a tight hug.

He didn’t understand. He didn’t deserve Time’s affection, he wasn’t good enough for it. As if reading his thoughts, Time squeezed him tighter and murmured into his hair. 

“You are a gift from the goddesses, Twilight,” he said, beginning to rock back and forth soothingly. Twilight wasn’t sure if it was meant to comfort him or Time himself. “You are a gift from the goddesses, and I love you. We all do. You mean  _ so  _ much to us, Twi. We need you. Please,  _ please  _ stay with us and let us  _ show  _ you how important you are. I love you.”

And he kept repeating that. 

“I love you, Pup. I love you so much. Never forget that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am... so sorry.


End file.
